


Hardest Choices, Strongest Wills

by jelly_pies



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Electrocution, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Permanent Injury, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, T for language and not-so-graphic violence but take care, Tony Stark Lives, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, meaning tony's arm and radiation injuries from the snap, tags to be updated as I go along, tortured tony stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly_pies/pseuds/jelly_pies
Summary: "You cannot stop me! You don't know what it costs!" Thanos roared now, none of the previous pride in his voice. None of the self-assurance. "There is a price, Stark!""And I'm gonna pay it." Inexplicably, Stark spoke calmly, even as bolts of electricity crawled up from the Stones, around his arm. Yet his eyes burned furious into Thanos' own. Stark's thumb and middle finger came together. "Whatever it takes."-Post-Endgame AU where snapping carries a more complicated consequence beyond the radiation exposure. This secret spares Tony’s life… as well as Thanos’. Exiled in space, the weakened Titan rebuilds his armies, this time with a new captive in tow.Meanwhile, Rhodey mounts a rescue mission, Nebula faces old demons, and Tony’s family deals with their loss.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Nebula & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Nebula & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Thanos
Comments: 32
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Still obsessed with Endgame fixits a year after the movie?
> 
> It's more likely than you think.

The price.

It was a secret he had learned long ago, after starting his quest for the Stones. His quest for balance. Thanos had burned the scrolls, destroyed the planet, and revealed the information to no one else — not his generals, and, by Death, not his daughters.

There was a price. The universe demands balance.

* * *

"You cannot stop this!" Thanos inched his hand further inside the gauntlet. In response, Tony Stark triggered something in his suit, and the metal arm grabbing Thanos' own burned with white-hot fire.

He screamed, pain and rage and frustration at the futility, the uselessness of these would-be heroes resisting the inevitable. Grabbing the edge of the gauntlet desperately, Thanos launched himself forward against his opponent. The man pushed back.

They fought in a crater. The other one — the flying woman who burned — Thanos had thrown her off moments ago. No one else came to interrupt their duel.

Fire rained all around them. Explosions and screams. No one else could get close.

This should have been over long ago. The Stones should already be his. And yet, every time Thanos struck, his much smaller opponent struck harder. He threw Stark against a rock, and he turned and flew the gauntlet out of his hands at the last possible moment. Just when Thanos could finish the man with one last blow, one of Stark's teammates would join the fray; by the time Thanos dealt with them, Stark had recovered enough to keep the gauntlet from him once more.

They were at a stalemate.

"There is no stopping this!" Grasping at straws, at any other strategy to tip the scales on his side, Thanos shouted over the cacophony of the raging battle. "The universe demands balance, Stark!" Stark only gripped the gauntlet more firmly. Thanos shuffled his fingers towards the Stones. "And balance demands a price."

* * *

For years, Thanos had wondered what his price might be.

The Stones were pure, unadulterated power. No being could wield even one stone — much less all six at once — without it exacting a payment.

"Revenge," the hermit had rasped, spilling the ancient secrets to Thanos, before the Titan mercifully ended his suffering. "The Stones refrain from working all together — the destruction is too great. Be warned — if anyone should reject their wishes, bend all six to his will, they will take their revenge."

It was a foolish notion. Thanos refused to think of it in such terms. The Stones merely demanded balance.

There was the outburst to expect, of course — what the Xandarian astronomers called gamma radiation. He was prepared for that. But Thanos knew it wasn't the full extent of the price of wielding the Infinity Stones.

* * *

They wrestled for who knows how long. But at last, it was over.

Ironic as it was, Thanos couldn't help the smile. The gauntlet was his, finally. It was over.

"I am inevitable," he taunted, smirking at his opponent, fallen on the ground where he had thrown him. Thanos snapped.

Nothing happened. He turned his hand over. The Stones were gone.

Tony Stark knelt up, slowly. Brought his own arm up. The Stones shone against the back of his hand.

Thanos felt them burn at the back of his neck.

"And I…" Lights crawled up over the man's arm, over his body. "Am…" He paused unwillingly, the pain evident on his face.

"You cannot stop me! You don't know what it costs!" Thanos roared now, none of the previous pride in his voice. None of the self-assurance. "There is a price, Stark!"

Ironic as it was, Stark couldn't help the smile. "I know," he barely whispered, voice already hoarse. "You — you're not the only one cursed with knowledge."

"Then you know you cannot end me! I will have my vengeance! The Stones demand balance!" Thanos screamed, screamed like a child denied his wishes. There was nothing else he could do.

It was supposed to be him. The Stones were supposed to be his. At the sight of another person wielding them, his body betrayed him, and Thanos couldn't move, not even to stop it. "They demand a price!" he repeated.

"And I'm gonna pay it." Inexplicably, Stark spoke calmly, even as bolts of electricity crawled up from the Stones, around his arm. Yet his eyes burned furious into Thanos' own. Stark's thumb and middle finger came together. "Whatever it takes."

* * *

When Tony snapped, there was a sudden flash of light, and a jolt like a creaky gear finally clicked into place. Rhodes saw the people on the ground react as if it was a short earthquake. Yet his own view, from his vantage point up high, shook him more than any natural tremor.

When Tony snapped, Thanos lunged for him. Mere feet away from Tony, the Titan started to turn to dust, like his armies around him — and then he didn't — and then he did again — over and over again, forming and reforming. Rhodes would have blamed his cracked screen, or faulty vision, or the speed at which he was barrelling towards the duo, but something in his gut told him his eyes weren't playing tricks.

As Rhodes flew closer, he saw Thanos reach his friend. Thanos wrestled Tony to the ground. And then the pair vanished.

Rhodes nearly crash-landed on the spot where Tony lay, but he was too late. Nothing lay there anymore but a cracked gauntlet. And six smoking Infinity Stones.

The next few minutes were chaos. When Tony snapped, it should have been victory. Instead, they were some of the worst moments in James Rhodes' life.

Far off, a few Avengers started a cheer, those who hadn't seen the final moment, hadn't seen the price paid for victory. Nearby, the others started to gather. The kid — Peter — spewed questions, eyes wild and disbelieving. Strange came by, his expression cryptic as usual, yet something in his posture changed, something had been shaken. Pepper landed beside Rhodes and placed a hand on his shoulder tentatively, her eyes a silent query.

"A price." At the sudden silence that greeted those words, Rhodes looked around at his teammates' faces and realized they were all looking at him. And he realized he was the one who had spoken. "I don't — Tony said — back in the compound — something about a price," he continued, hardly knowing where the words were coming from. "When somebody snapped — the stones took something from you too."

Rhodes swallowed the shock and horror rising in his stomach, and scanned the small crowd for any reaction. Any sign of recognition. Of realization. He watched their eyes, their faces — nothing — confusion —

And then, near the back of the crowd, Nebula jerked her head.

Rhodes fixed his gaze on her. "Where's Bruce," he said, surprised once again at his own voice. "Nebula, we need to find Banner." Nebula nodded once. And took off without a word.

Pepper stepped up beside Rhodes, confused, calm, bracing. He took her hand. And as the rest of the Avengers started to react, as the world moved in slow motion around them, Rhodes and Pepper leaned on each other for support.

Because when Tony snapped, their worst nightmare unfolded. Now they just had to find out what that was.

* * *

"Sub — subjection! Please —" the hermit groaned out. Thanos gave a nod, his soldier dialed down the contraption, and the man stopped screaming.

The Secret Keeper, they called him. Thanos' own little conquest while he sent Gamora after the Soul Stone. If he was to succeed, he needed all the secrets.

"They — subdue — the bearer —" The man shivered. Thanos stepped closer, bent over him. "Subdue — to greatest enemy. To — to whomever — he hates most. Bend — the bearer's will — ve-vengeance for — for bending the will of the stones."

Thanos straightened up. "This is all?"

The hermit hesitated. Thanos gestured to his soldier, and the electricity started up once more.

"No! No — please —" 

It took a few more minutes. But the Secret Keeper finally spilled the rest.

"Im-immunity… to wishes. You… oh great… Titan… you wish to eliminate… half the universe." Thanos nodded, indicating for him to continue. "There is one — who would be spared. Your enemy. He — he shall live — to take his vengeance on you. And the stones… shall allow it."

After the interrogation was over, Thanos spared the hermit further suffering. His neck was almost the only bone in his body left to break, anyway.

He turned to his soldier, the only other person in the chamber. "You heard this?"

"Yes, Thanos."

"Then come, child. Bow before your master, and contribute to the universe's balance."

Thanos alone emerged from the chamber that day. And he alone bore its secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've had this fixit idea for a while, let me know what you guys think! I can't promise regular updates but I'll get this all out as soon as I can XD


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce lay on the hospital bed, pale against the sheets. His right arm was in a sling. Radiation burns covered the right side of his face.

"He will recover. The doctors say two, three days to regain consciousness." Shuri told Thor. "It is lucky the sorcerers portaled him here on time. Wakanda will take good care of all our wounded."

"We thank you again, Your Majesty," Thor said, though his eyes were still on his friend. Bruce Banner now, as he was before. Small, and not green, and almost fatally injured.

Shuri observed Thor's eyes. "Not even our doctors can tell what made him revert. You said he had mastered the science in combining his two, ah, personalities?"

Thor shook his head. "I do not think this was in the realm of Banner's science. I think the answer lies… elsewhere."

Shuri nodded slowly. "When Nebula and Colonel Rhodes come back with answers…"

"We will inform you and your brother, yes," Thor assured. "Whatever happened that day… It concerns all of us."

* * *

When Happy stepped out to answer the call, Morgan listened at the door the whole time. She barely made it back to the dining table, grabbing a crayon at random when he walked back.

"Nice try, Squirt," he chuckled, no real meanness behind the words. "Try not to run back next time, it's loud. Your dad could teach you a few tricks." His eyes dropped suddenly almost as soon as he said it.

Morgan decided not to try to defend herself. "Is Mommy okay?"

"Yes," Happy replied carefully, lowering himself onto a chair. "Your mom is fine. She's, uh, coming soon, in fact. Gonna come through a magic portal, isn't that cool?"

Morgan tilted her head. Sometimes before, with Daddy, she could feel when something was wrong. She'd hug him from behind, or make a silly face when he or Mommy went too long without smiling. Daddy called it her Morgan tingle once, but then his eyes looked pained, and he never called it that again. It was like that this time; Morgan could sense it too. "Like Mr. Wong's magic portals? Mommy said it makes you travel fast. So the big fight is over?" Uncle Happy didn't react too badly at that. Morgan tried a different approach. "Is Daddy with her?"

Spinning yellow sparkles in the living room spared Happy from answering.

"Mommy!" Morgan threw herself at her mother as soon as she stepped through, still in her new purple suit. "Is it over? Did the Avengers win?"

Pepper knelt down to her daughter's level. And Morgan saw she had been crying.

"Maguna —" she began. Morgan swallowed. Mommy was using her serious voice. "I — we need to have another big talk, sweetheart."

"We just had one," Morgan replied, gears turning in her head. "You said they brought everyone back. But you had to go help, fight with Daddy and the Avengers, and —"

Pepper nodded. "It's over. We won." She didn't sound like she'd just won anything.

Morgan touched a tear track down her mother's cheek. "Mommy, are you okay?"

Mommy only sniffled. Mommy's eyes flicked over to Uncle Happy quickly. Then Mommy hugged her.

As the embrace stretched out, Morgan braced herself for another big talk.

* * *

“We’re sure about this?”

Rhodes bent over the scattered papers and holographic displays on the table, eyes red and eyebags drooping, cleaned up but still in the clothes he had worn to battle. Opposite him, Nebula shook her head.

“No. But it’s all we have,” she replied simply. Spread between them were all they could salvage from the wrecked compound and FRIDAY’s servers: the research and information on the Stones the team had gone through before the time heist. A fuzzy puzzle missing a few stray pieces. Most pieces had never even been here to begin with. Nebula looked up from their work, at her partner. “You need to rest.”

“I need,” Rhodes retorted, “to solve this.” Tony would have understood. Tony shared countless sleepless nights at MIT with him. Hell, Tony had worse sleeping habits. Tony knew this kind of need, this kind of drive that overshadowed everything else when lives were on the line.

Rhodes gulped. Tony wasn’t here.

He didn’t realize Nebula had moved beside him until she placed a hand on her shoulder. The gentleness from the normally reserved master assassin was enough to grab his attention. “We’ve spent hours on this, Rhodes. Maybe you should recognize this is all the information we’ll get.”

Rhodes sighed and reached up to massage his temples. “The team’s expecting something.”

“We need to keep moving,” she stressed, a little more urgency in her tone. “Every day takes Thanos further away. Any chance to kill him, and to save Stark, moves further away.”

“You’re right. You’re right,” he murmured.

“I want to fix this too.” The grim determination in her voice was unmistakable. “I need to.”

Rhodes nodded. “I’ll, uh. Call a little powwow in the morning.”

Nodding, Nebula turned to leave. “Get yourself looked at before you turn in.”

Rhodes sniffed. _Mama Bear. Pick up a few habits from our mutual friend? The old you would never have--_

The thought stirred something else in his mind. “Hey,” he called. Nebula paused at the door. “Sorry to ask, but. You’re not beating yourself up over what happened before... at Morag… are you?”

Nebula had her back to him, but Rhodes distinctly saw her stiffen.

“I just — it wasn’t your fault,” he tried, even though the effort seemed to fall lame. “The old you, the connection that Thanos… exploited, it — don’t let it get to you. We’ll get Tony back. We’ll fix this.”

Nebula didn’t speak for a long time. “Get some sleep, Rhodes,” she finally threw over her shoulder. And walked out without looking back.

* * *

The fatal snap.

A flash of white. Then blue. Thanos lunged for Stark, but the man focused his energies on the Space Stone at the last moment. They both fell through the battlefield. Fell through space.

Disengaging his arm technology, Stark left the Stones on Earth. Thanos' fingers were mere inches away before the portal claimed them.

And then they were in darkness.

They landed hard, Stark under him. Dust flew when they hit the ground. Groaning as he got up, Thanos could just make out the man's face in the dim light. Burns spread over Stark's right side, his eyes still screwed shut in pain. He wouldn't be waking any time soon.

They had landed on another planet. And it was dark, dark all around, a nighttime atmosphere above them, and gray land all about. Black mountains loomed overhead.

Thanos doubted Stark had had a particular destination in mind when he opened the portal. He suspected he just wanted to draw Thanos away. Or maybe it was the Stones, exiling its bearer to a place he would not be pleased to be taken. Maybe they had started to extract their price.

Thanos looked down at his hands. Whole again, not dust. Not like his armies. The Secret Keeper had told the truth. He would live to take vengeance on the Stone Bearer. Live to regain balance.

Despite the pain from the fall, and his bruises from the battle, Thanos couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. The stars twinkled overhead in a familiar pattern. A landmark. A galaxy he knew. The Thanos of this time may have perished, but perhaps he still had allies in these parts.

Limping but satisfied, Thanos grabbed Stark around the torso and started dragging him up a mountain, a vantage point from which to look for outposts. Slowly, the plan grew in his mind. Find a ship. Find the remnants of those still loyal to the cause. Rebuild his army.

The Stones had taken their price. Now Thanos would make sure Stark paid for it, dearly.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony woke up slowly.

He heard the voices. Felt the pain. Felt the rough ground under him. Remembered the nausea of flying… why were they flying? Was he still in the suit — yes, he felt the suit — surely he wasn’t flying in the suit? It didn’t feel the same… Voices again. Pain. If not the suit, maybe a plane then? Quinjet? None of the voices were familiar. He couldn’t make out what they were saying… Damn, he was out of it, he must be. Because he could almost swear they were talking in an entirely different language. And no, not the many he recognized. Pain. Flying again. Nausea. His senses all muddled together.

Mostly it was pain. His arm was on fire. Every breath burned, but not as much through the mouth as through the nose, so he kept his lips apart, praying they could stay that way when everything went black again. Or maybe he prayed they wouldn’t. Maybe he prayed this could end peacefully for him. In his sleep, the quiet way everyone wants to pass. The quiet way he’d given up on ever since he made that suit. Pain. His face was numb, it itched under the suit… why was he still in the suit? Fire. Pain.

Voices. Only this time, there was one he knew well. One that haunted his nightmares.

That’s it. Nightmare. That’s what this was. He was … hadn’t there been a battle? Was he injured, was that it? He must be in the medbay, having another panic attack, another nightmare, another episode… Then why was he still in the suit? Why did everything still hurt so damn much?

The voice again. Worse than any nightmare. Tony woke up slowly, and then all at once.

“Tony Stark.”

Damn it. This was real. Very real.

He found himself facing down, and slanted a little upward… found his arms and legs stretched out... saw a dark floor under him… several feet under. He was suspended. With what? He felt nothing on his wrists, legs, nothing on the suit… Tony felt his stomach fall to the floor. No suit. Just his old sweater and pants, what he’d worn to battle, but he felt naked and exposed anyway. He flexed his limbs experimentally… damn it, pain. Still pain. On the right side. On his arm. And suddenly it all came flooding back.

The battle. The snap. Thanos lunged for him, and he knew he was too weak now to fight back. He used the Space Stone, opened a portal… both of them. He hadn’t cared where, but he remembered willing the portal to take both of them.

And now here he was, he supposed. In burning pain and in captivity, eye level with the crapbag who started this whole mess. And Thanos was sneering, fucking basking in Tony’s misery. Tony fought, gritted his teeth against the ache, but his voice came out cracked all the same. “Hey... ballsack face.”

Thanos chuckled mirthlessly, unfazed. “Do not worry about this —" he gestured to the right side of Tony’s body. “I’ve made sure your injuries will not take your life. But the pain… that, I have chosen not to alleviate.”

“Well, fucking thank you.” Breathing still hurt. His throat was dry. How long had it been?

“It’s been five days.” Tony inhaled sharply. Coincidence? Or was telepathy another one of this fascist’s talents? “No one will find you here, believe me,” Thanos continued. “You have a price to pay, Stark. You won’t escape it.”

_ Good to know, kindly keep monologuing. _ Tony swept his eyes over the room as best as he could from his position. Contrary to expectations, it was huge. He could barely see the walls. And it didn’t look like a dungeon, or a spaceship; it was just a black room. He seemed to be suspended in its center, although Tony could only guess at anything behind his peripheral vision. No furnishings, no equipment as far as he could see. One spotlight from above, illuminating him like some sick display.  _ And here we have the actual Iron Man. Surprisingly smaller and weaker than posters suggest. _ Thanos stood in front of him, and beyond the Titan, he could just barely make out a set of heavy double doors.

“What do you want?” Tony asked after a long silence. Cliché, but the way Thanos leered at him — it felt like the giant’s eyes were boring into his soul, and it unsettled Tony more than he cared to admit.

Thanos stepped back with a smug grin. “Oh, this isn’t an interrogation, Stark. I don’t need anything from you. It’s over. I won. Now all I want is your pain.”

“You… won?” Despite the ache it triggered in his chest, Tony couldn’t help the snicker. “Danvers might have hit you harder than I thought. You haven’t won anything, purple. Your army’s all dusted. I saw it.” He swallowed, summoning whatever bravado he had left in him as he met Thanos’ eyes. “I did it.”

“Yes, yes you did.” Thanos spoke like he was talking to a child. “My army was turned to dust with your snap. As was I. And yet, here I am now.” He spread his arms, and Tony saw that although he had changed out of his armor, the Titan still looked as formidable as ever. Not a bruise or stain of blood on him. “I thought you knew what price the stones demanded, Stark.” Thanos was taunting now. Practically grinning with victory. “I thought you said you were ready to pay it. Yet here I am. The universe has denied you. My armies only came back stronger! Your friends, your warriors are nothing now. Your planet is dust!”

Without warning, Thanos grabbed Tony’s head, one hand surrounding it fully. Tony gasped. Thanos’ thumb pressed against his throat.

“The rest will follow soon. I warned you, Tony Stark. I am inevitable.”

Tony struggled — his arms wouldn't budge — he clenched his fists, wriggling, fighting against the pressure on his head. Thanos was playing a game on him. He wasn’t buying it.  _ He doesn’t have the Stones he doesn’t have the Stones he’s lying he’s lying he’s lying. _

Tony stared the Titan down, hoping his own eyes looked fiercer than he felt. But he wouldn’t give this monster the satisfaction of answering him. A few more seconds, and Thanos tightened his hand’s grasp. Tony tasted blood.

His head spun — his whole body suddenly felt weak, sagging under its own weight as it hung like a puppet — Thanos squeezed once more and  _ god this is it, this is how I die. _

“Do you think I’m lying?” Thanos said in his ear. Tony shivered. He tried a  _ fuck you _ in response but it caught in his throat, no part of his body responded to him anymore.

And then Thanos released him. Tony hacked his lungs up coughing.

Thanos held one hand out in front of Tony’s face, but he couldn’t comprehend it, everything went in and out of focus for what felt like hours. He could feel every ache in his body more deeply; it wasn’t just the burns fighting for attention now. Now he sensed every heave of his chest, felt his beaten skin brush against what he was pretty sure were several cracked ribs. Tony coughed and writhed. And Thanos waited patiently.

Eventually time slowed down; Tony’s breaths came in longer gasps. And he found that he was staring straight down at a golden gauntlet on Thanos’ hand. A gauntlet he could have sworn wasn’t there before. A gauntlet containing all six Infinity Stones.

_ He’s lying he’s lying he’s lying. _ Involuntarily, Tony shook his head.  _ But he has the Stones. _ Cough. Gasp.  _ No. He’s lying. Game, remember? Don’t play his game. _

“I don’t need anything from you anymore, Stark. I don’t even need you to believe me.” Thanos stretched his hand out again, the hand not in the gauntlet, and Tony flinched. But Thanos only stroked Tony’s hair. Slowly, gently even. Tony almost wished he were back in the choke hold. “I only kept you alive so you could see this. Behold my victory. And your pitiful defeat.”

Thanos let Tony’s head drop. A whimper escaped him before he bit his tongue.

“I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts, Stark. But I’ll be back.” Thanos turned to leave.

_ See? A game, Stark. If he really won he’d kill you already. He’s lying. _ Deep in his subconscious, Tony wondered how much longer he could keep believing that.

“In the meantime, enjoy your accommodations,” Thanos said at the door. “I hear the previous occupant didn’t take it so well. Betrayed me, in fact.” Thanos hesitated for a moment. Then he straightened up. “Well. That worthless daughter got her comeuppance in the end.”

Without looking back, Thanos shut the door with a thud. The light above turned off.

And Tony was left there, suspended in space by nothing, in total darkness. And pain.

* * *

The soldier scrambled back as Thanos approached, nearly tripping over his reptilian tail. “I hope the chamber is… satisfactory, for your purposes, my lord…”

“It will do,” Thanos said shortly. He held his hand up. Empty now. Thanos turned it around, staring at the back of his hand with regret. With longing.

“If I may be so bold as… the holograms only work inside the room, O Titan.” The soldier shuffled his feet. “As do the… ah, neural connections. Although, with more work, they could be extended to the rest of the ship…”

“No.” Thanos clutched his other arm, the one in bandages. Yet another thing the holograms had disguised. “No. Focus on fixing our weapons systems. And the thrusters. We must make haste, to find others still loyal to the cause.”

“Yes, of course, O Mighty One…”

“Very good.” Slowly, Thanos lowered himself onto the throne in the middle of the control room. Not as grand as his old ship. But this would have to do. “Meanwhile, throw off any useless cargo. Let nothing hinder our speed.”

“And what of the scavengers, my liege? The ones who brought you from that… miserable wasted planet. They wait for payment still, in the hold. Shall I put them with your other prisoner?”

Thanos shook his head, and waved his hand dismissively. “They,” he drawled, “are useless cargo.”

As the soldier scampered off, Thanos looked after him with distaste. The grovelling rat. His armies used to be the most feared in all galaxies. His children struck terror into grown men's hearts, and obeyed him without exception. How far his future self had fallen.

"Patience. Patience," he muttered to himself. He would return to glory soon enough. The universe would cower before him once more, and be brought to balance.

Thanos would rise again. And Tony Stark would help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo that's basically the setup! I'm hoping to make the next chapters a little longer than they've been so far. And I'm planning to shift the focus more on some other characters, too.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear what you guys think :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much a filler chapter, let's see what everyone else is up to. Back to Tony in the next one!

Sam Wilson raised one eyebrow. “So you’re saying these Stones… had a revenge clause in their contract?”

Rhodes sighed and raised both hands. “As far as we can figure, yeah.”

Silence all around the table. Rhodes sat at one end with Nebula, their research displayed on the screen behind them. Their host, T'Challa, sat on the other end. Other Avengers sat randomly on both sides, fidgeting with slings and bandage edges, tapping on holographic screens, and otherwise looking very much like a beat-up football team licking their wounds in preparation for the second half of the game.

Thor straightened up. “What about Bruce?”

“Right.” Rhodey paused. “How is he, by the way?”

“Healing,” Shuri answered. “We have advised him against… trying to bring out his green friend, for the meantime.”

“Yeah. Good. That’s the other side of it. We don’t know what happened to — to Tony, but we did see how the Stones affected Banner.”

“When did the changes take place again?” Strange piped up.

“As soon as he snapped,” Clint replied. “His hand lit up and then… he was just, just Banner again. Got us scared it didn’t work.”

“No warning before the reversion, no explanation?”

“Yeah, we didn’t have much time to examine him before Thanos crashed the party,” Steve said.

“I have a theory on that.”

Everyone turned at the new voice. Bruce Banner sat on a wheelchair at the doorway, hooked to an IV tube. “Before you ask, yeah, I got cleared by the doctors. I, uh, I’ve been trying to remember. After I snapped, Tony — he was the first to get to me. And he said something, um, I was pretty out of it, but I think…” Bruce squeezed his eyes shut. “He asked me… he said, ‘Bruce, who would want to do this to you.’”

Nothing but silence in reply. Rhodes fidgeted uncomfortably. Thor got up quietly and pushed Banner’s chair to the table.

“A personal wish,” Nebula said in a low voice. “Rhodes.”

“Yeah.” Rhodey shook his head. “So that’s what Tony thought too. Fuck, I’d really hoped that wasn’t the case.”

Strange leaned forward in his chair. “Care to share, Colonel?”

“We had a theory,” Rhodes said slowly, in a louder voice, “that the Stone’s — revenge, so to speak — had a personal link. Something specific directed at whoever snapped.”

“I always suspected that too,” Bruce said quietly. “Or else, the first time… when Thanos snapped. Five years ago. Thor was inches from him then.” He looked at Thor beside him. “Something never ticked. The radiation didn’t hurt you as much as it should have.”

Across the table, Peter Parker raised his hand meekly. “So, um, Colonel Rhodes, sir. What does this mean for… for Tony?”

Rhodes looked at Nebula meaningfully before turning back to the boy. “Call me Rhodey, Peter,” he said softly. “Most other Avengers do.”

“It means he’s under Thanos’ wishes now,” Nebula answered for him. “That portal may have taken them both wherever Thanos wanted. It means —" something in her voice hardened — "we can sit and plan all day, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what this price was exactly, the Stones are never going to be used for that again.”

“Never.” T’Challa shook his head emphatically. “The Stones sit secure in our vaults until they can be safely returned to their time.”

“So all that matters now,” Nebula continued, “is going after Thanos. If he controlled where he and Stark went, we follow that lead.”

“We know they’re not on Earth,” Sam interrupted.

“He’s not on his retirement planet,” Carol Danver’s hologram added, listening in from her spaceship.

Nebula nodded. “I know where else Thanos might escape. We go after them. That’s all we can do now.”

“Some of us,” Strange said, after a pause. “The rest have other urgent matters that need attending to, don’t we?”

There were general nods and murmuring around the table.

“I’m returning the Stones,” Steve announced, “as soon as Lang and Her Highness can get the time machine working again.”

Shuri snickered at Steve’s formal address, but nodded. “It might be dangerous, with Thanos still alive out there —"

“I’m going with him.” Bucky spoke for the first time at that meeting.

“Other entities have already started taking advantage of this… opportunity, this disturbance in the universe,” Strange informed. “I regret to say we sorcerers cannot be spared to search for Thanos and Stark.”

“I’ve already agreed to help Dr. Strange,” Wanda added.

“Eh, that’s fine,” Rocket piped up. “We got our own crew.”

“I wanted to search for Gamora,” Quill said quietly. “But finishing her killer off is sounding pretty good to me, too.”

“We can do both, Quill.” Nebula’s eyes softened.

“Some of us will have to stay on the ground,” Sam said. “Coordinate with the governments, help get everything settled.”

“International conflicts are already starting to brew,” T’Challa supplied.

“Alright.” Rhodes took in the whole room. “So we all got our little assignments. The Guardians are with me… Thor, you still wanna come?”

“I’m not resting until Thanos is dead.”

“Gotcha. Good. Anyone else?”

A new voice spoke from the corner of the room. “I’ve always wanted to go back to space.” Nick Fury sipped calmly from a large cup. “I’m leaving SHIELD in capable hands here. Agents Hill and Barton have their instructions.”

“I’m… sure you’ll be a big help, yeah,” Rhodey said, unconvinced.

Hologram-Danvers smirked. “I’ll rendezvous with you guys, then.”

“Good. We’ll have enough manpower to do this, hopefully.” Rhodes swept his eyes over the room one last time, not wanting to miss anybody. From the corner of his eye, he saw Parker slowly raise his hand.

“Uh-uh.” He pointed quickly at the kid. “Not you. You and me need to have a conversation after this.”

Peter opened his mouth to respond, a touch of determination in his eyes, but then seemed to think better of it and lowered his hand.

“Okay. Let’s kick this grape’s butt one last time.” Rocket leaned back, feet on the table. “When do we start?”

* * *

The meeting lasted a little longer after that, but Peter didn’t pay much attention. Conversations flew back and forth: “Do we have enough men to go against Thanos” — yes, Thor argued, Thanos must have been weakened, and his army was gone. “This is the younger Thanos at fuller strength” — and I can take him on again, Danvers replied. “Is an all-out assault the best option, we don’t even know if Tony is still alive” — Rhodes shut that one down quickly. They had no other way of knowing. No other choice.

At least no one brought up the Stones, Peter thought. Those were off limits, no exceptions.

But mostly, Peter kept his eyes on the table, except to steal glances at the woman sitting across from him. Pepper Potts hadn’t spoken a word the whole meeting, yet somehow Peter got the feeling she had a better grasp of the plan than anybody else. As everyone started to file out, Peter saw her join Rhodes, Nebula, the Guardians, Thor, and Fury in a separate discussion. He decided to give them some privacy.

A few hours later Peter found himself alone with Rhodes, on one of the balconies of the Wakandan facility that served as temporary Avengers headquarters. He was staring at the sunset in the distance when the older man approached and cut directly to the chase.

“Peter. I know you want to go,” Rhodey began, leaning beside Peter against the railing. “I can’t let you, your aunt won’t let you, pretty sure Pepper won’t let you, so let’s just get that out of the way first thing.”

“I can’t plead my case?” Peter attempted weakly.

Rhodes shrugged. “Go ahead, I’ll hear you out. Decision’s made, though.”

Despite himself, Peter cracked a smile at the man’s no-nonsense attitude. “Worth a shot. Here goes. I’ve thought about this for a while. I don’t know… where I fit in, in all this. I mean, I wake up, and it’s been five years, and I’m fighting in a crazy battle and I’m an Avenger.” He blew out a breath. “But Mr. Sta— Tony… I just, I always knew where I fit in, with Tony. And I don’t know what I’d do if… if I couldn’t help get him back.”

Peter looked away into the distance. Rhodes didn’t interrupt the silence.

“Wow.” Peter exhaled after a long, long pause. “Yeah, it — kinda sounds selfish, saying it out loud.”

Rhodey shook his head. “You’re not selfish, Peter. You and Tones, I — I know what you mean to each other.” He put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “But you know that’s why I can’t let you go, right? If we got you back, only to lose you… Tony would just, it would destroy him all over again.”

Peter sighed. “I’m Spider-Man, sir. I’m an Avenger now. That’s not a good enough reason.”

“No, I know. But you’re a much better Avenger on the ground, right? You do a lot of good, kid. And the team’s spread pretty thin right now.” Rhodes patted Peter’s arm. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, I know it’s gotta suck. But this is… it’s the responsible thing to do.”

Peter held the older man’s eye contact for a long moment. Nothing was more important to him right now than getting Mr. Stark back. This felt like getting benched. And yet, deep down, he knew the reasons were valid.

Finally, Peter nodded. “Yeah. I know. I, um, suppose I knew all along.” He blew out loudly. “Still sucks.”

“Besides, you wouldn’t leave your aunt like this, so soon after —"

“Alright, alright, don’t overdo it.” Peter made a shoving motion with both hands, then winced at Rhodes’ reaction to the gesture. As if it reminded him of someone else.

"When are you getting back?" Peter said after a while, voice hollow.

"No way of knowing. Logistically speaking, this is just about the shittiest time to be mounting a search and rescue. It could be months."

Peter nodded, leaving unspoken what both men were thinking. Who knew if Tony had months.

"So, uh, what's my assignment, sir? Everyone else is doing something."

Rhodes shook his head. "Go back to school, Pete, find your old friends. Be with your aunt. Look out for the little guy, you know. Do you. And, um. Keep in touch with Pepper and Morgan, would you? You're getting along well, yeah?"

"She made me watch Frozen 2 with her last night."

"Then you're practically family."

Peter laughed quietly. He and Morgan had been introduced a couple of days ago when Pepper decided to stay in Wakanda for the Avengers' planning sessions. He'd never really been one for kids, but then little Morgan Stark looked up at him with eyes that looked a whole lot like Tony's, whispered shyly that she already knew him from her dad's bedtime stories, and suddenly Peter was wrapped around her finger.

"There's something else." Rhodes' voice turned serious. "I had FRIDAY dig up anything Tony had left behind, anything that could help. And I found, he left you something."

Peter frowned. "Mr. Stark left me something… while I was still dead?"

Rhodes nodded. "I think it was something he worked on the last five years. Unless it's one of your projects from before? He ever mention something called EDITH?"

Peter's confused look gave Rhodey his answer.

"Anyway," he continued, "it's hooked to SI's systems. If Tony expected something like this to happen, and he planned this for you, then I think he would've wanted you to stay on Earth too, kid."

Peter nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Rhodey smiled slowly, eyes apologetic.

“Thank you, though,” Peter said after a while. “For, um. Hearing me out anyway, before. I feel like it’s what Tony would have done, if he was in your place.”

As soon as the words left his mouth Peter bit his lip, watching Rhodes’ reaction, afraid he’d said the wrong thing.

But Rhodes only grinned. “Hear you out but do the more responsible thing anyway? It’s what I would have done if it was Tony in _your_ place.”

* * *

Nebula stepped out of the meeting room, no real destination in mind.

They were still talking inside. It was the day after that first big meeting, and they were still talking. Routes to take, Thanos’ possible hideouts. Rogers and how he would return the Stones. The Avengers’ international credibility. It was a lot.

Very little of it concerned Nebula, and less than that interested her. Of course, she understood they had limited resources to spare, and planning was essential to getting to Thanos with as little missed hits as possible. But she still wasn’t used to this inactivity, this buzzing before the real fight.

A couple of others had commented on it yesterday, saying she’d been even more intense and forward than usual during the meeting. She could still remember Rhodes’ answer. “Nobody wants to finish Thanos more than her. And few people want Tony back more than her.” She’d gained a little more of her already great respect for the man after that.

Still, the nervous energy was starting to get annoying, so she decided to take a walk. The views of the Wakandan plains were beautiful. Serene. How strange that her father and Stark had clashed so fiercely, and yet both men had the exact same serene retirement planned when everything was over. The same beauty they both claimed to fight for.

A few hallways down, Nebula came across another wanderer.

“Morgan.” She blinked. The girl simply smiled.

“Hi, Auntie Blue.”

Nebula froze. The nickname reminded her of simpler times, peaceful times, babysitting by the lake. It seemed a lifetime ago.

“Hello. I thought you had already gone back home.”

Morgan shook her head. “That’s tomorrow. Mommy still has meetings here. And I didn’t want to be away from both her and Daddy.”

“Oh.” Nebula swallowed. “Right. Well, someone should be… looking after you, shouldn’t they?”

Morgan scooted closer with a conspiratorial look; Nebula bended so she could whisper in her ear. “Uncle Happy’s in the lobby. Snoring.”

“Is he?” Nebula straightened up. “Well, don’t wander too far.”

“Where are you going?”

Nebula paused. “I don’t know.”

“Can I come with you?” Morgan swung her arms and attempted her best pleading eyes.

The girl was probably tired of hearing this by now, but those eyes bore a striking resemblance to her father’s. Maybe it was this reminder, more than anything else, that made Nebula nod her agreement.

They walked around the facility. Morgan skipped about, admired the view, chased the occasional dragonfly, but didn’t say much. Nebula brooded and said even less. Yet somehow that quiet walk with Morgan was the best part of her day.

Maybe she wasn't the type to admit it, but Nebula adored the child. And not just because of her resemblance to Tony, one of the first people to treat Nebula like a friend. Not just because of her resemblance to Pepper, either, whose strength Nebula quietly admired. Morgan had a quiet impishness about her, an intelligent twinkle in her eye. It was during one night visiting the Starks’ lakehouse when Nebula had a startling realization.

Morgan was the girl Nebula wished she herself had been, if only her childhood had been kinder.

For the second time since leaving the conference room, Nebula’s thoughts were drawn again to Thanos and Tony Stark. What each would think right now if they could see their two daughters, strolling together aimlessly on a peaceful afternoon. How two very different fathers had somehow ended up with children who could coexist, much less become friends.

How Nebula would have to leave in a few hours, to hopefully rescue one of their fathers, and kill the other.

They ended their walk in the same place they had met. “Go back to Happy before he misses you,” Nebula ordered as strictly as she could muster. Morgan bounded off with a giggle.

As the bouncing brown hair rounded a corner, Nebula silently made herself a promise. After tomorrow’s goodbyes, she’d see Morgan reunite with Tony, or she wouldn’t see her again at all. Nebula knew she couldn’t face it, face those trusting eyes and tell her she’d failed.

She would save that girl’s father, the same way he’d saved her. Whatever it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo the rest of the Avengers won't feature much in the rest of this story. I just wanted that one group scene to explain where everybody is.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around, and as usual, I'd love to hear what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight I'm back and still having a lot of fun with this idea!

The first few days were the hardest.

Tony's arm and face still felt like they were on fire, constantly. And he was sure the hanging position wasn't doing him any favors.

Most hours — days? weeks? — Thanos left him in the dark, literally and figuratively. No visits, which he supposed was good, because it meant no taunting, no grabbing his arm or his neck and squeezing every scream from his lungs in pain. But it also meant no information. With the creepy suspension and total darkness, Tony felt like he could be adrift in space light years away from any living thing, and there was absolutely nothing to prove that idea wrong until the next time Thanos came marching in.

Tony had known loneliness all his life. But this was some new fucking level.

At first, Tony had retreated into his own mind. Replayed the scene of him and Peter hugging on the battlefield, over and over again. Reminded himself of the reason he didn't lock all this in a box when he still had the chance. Reminded himself all this shit — the pain in his right side, this price the Stones made him pay, the very real possibility he would die in Thanos’ hands — it was worth it.

He did that, retreated to little memories, little oases in his vast desert. Morgan's laugh when he came home from the farmer's market with an alpaca in tow. Pepper's little shake of the head, the adorable way she raised one eyebrow, a questioning, accepting look reserved only for him. His perfect tiny daughter, the first time he held her in his arms. Rhodey's smile when he pronounced his two favorite people husband and wife. Rhodey, Happy, Bruce, Nebula, and Nat all visiting for Christmas  —

Nat. Maybe there were some memories he didn't choose to visit as much as others.

But then, even that was snatched away from him. Tony began to notice irregularities.

The first time, he was slow-dancing with Pepper in that gorgeous blue dress, treasuring how close their bodies were, how something in his life seemed to slot in its rightful place for the first time. And then the memory fast-forwarded, without his input or consent — Obadiah Stane, later at the same party. Tony forced his thoughts back to Pepper — were they on the roof? How many olives  —

And then back to Obadiah. Except this time, he was towering over Tony, the reactor in his hand.

That one had sparked quite the panic attack. Then, over time, Tony experienced more.

Every time he thought of Peter, he saw him trapped under a building, the way he had been in the surveillance videos Tony had watched. Tony tried to focus on another memory, and suddenly Peter was stumbling from out of nowhere into his arms.

"I’m sorry," the dust on Tony's hands whispered.

It was the same thing, every time — the worst parts of his memory. Rhodey fell from the sky. Pepper fell into the fire. Yinsen died. Tony drowned in a barrel in an Afghanistan cave, over and over and over, and when they pulled him up to face the cameras, suddenly he was facing his mother’s body at the morgue.

Until Tony taught himself to pull away from the memories.

Neural links — he tried to recall the things Nebula had mentioned, racking the furthest reaches of his remembrance. Memory retrievers. Brainwave readers. Horrors bestowed on a less-favored daughter. And now, apparently, on a captured enemy.

So Tony abandoned remembering. Trudged away from his oases into the desert, because somewhere in his pain-addled mind he still recognized that he would rather go through this a million times than have Thanos have any kind of access to his family. Any information, any leverage. Morgan, god, what would Tony do if that bastard were to get ahold of  _ Morgan. _

So now, instead of retreating from the darkness, Tony retreated into it. Thanos turned his thoughts back, dug into his memories, but Tony fought back.

And the first few days, the Titan found out that Tony's resistance could be handled. That the more he starved Tony, or tortured him, the less strength Tony had left to fight the intrusions into his mind.

The first few days were the hardest.

* * *

“Mommy?”

Morgan peeked into the bedroom where her mother sat on the bed, her tablet beside her.

“Here, baby.” Pepper wore one of Tony’s band shirts, using a sleeve to wipe at her nose. She opened her arms, and Morgan climbed into her lap, eyeing the screen the whole time.

“Were you talking to Uncle Rhodey?”

“Yeah.” Pepper brought one hand up to her face, behind Morgan’s back so she couldn’t see it. Maybe to wipe her eyes, but with Mommy, Morgan could never be sure. “Yeah, I was.”

“Did they find Daddy yet?”

Pepper kissed the top of Morgan’s head. “Not yet, Mo. They’re looking really hard, though. Auntie Carol’s with them now, and they split up into two teams. Trying to go faster.”

“Like Easter,” Morgan nodded wisely, “when Daddy helped me find all the eggs.”

“Yeah.” Pepper chuckled softly. “Exactly.”

Morgan loved Easter. This year they had gone to the egg hunt at the park for the first time, because Mommy had finally decided Morgan was old enough to join. She enjoyed the event, until a stranger came up to Daddy, sounding angry and saying things Morgan hadn’t heard before. Morgan asked her mother what “warmonger” meant, and she replied in a tight voice that they’d talk about it at home. They transferred to another part of the park. Daddy put on a cap besides his usual sunglasses. But Morgan didn’t enjoy it very much anymore.

The next day Daddy woke her up early, saying the Easter Bunny had left eggs right in their yard, silly them, they’d been too busy to notice, and hurry before Gerald eats them all. That afternoon, lying on a blanket on the grass, tummy full and colorful eggshell remains scattered around her, Morgan decided Easter wasn’t too bad after all.

“Can we have another Easter Monday next year?” Morgan asked quietly, fingering the inactive tablet screen, where a picture of the three of them smiled up from the wallpaper. “Will Daddy be home then?”

Her mother ran her fingers through Morgan’s hair. “I don’t know, sweetie,” she said quietly.

Morgan leaned back into her chest, and Pepper wrapped her arms around her.

Easter, Morgan knew from the countdown she had been marking on the calendar, was more than 100 days away. Christmas was closer, less than 20. Last week, she had asked Mommy if she thought Daddy would be home by Christmas. Mommy had given the same answer she gave Morgan about Easter now.

Mommy didn’t know if he’d be back by Christmas. Mommy didn’t know if he’d be back by Easter. Maybe Mommy didn’t know if Daddy would be back at all.

Morgan knew something else: Mommy did not like this, very much. Mommy never liked not knowing. But maybe they would know, soon.

Maybe, like Easter, it was only the first part that was hard. Maybe her family would wake her up in the morning with a surprise, and they’d eat and play together and everything would be alright.

Maybe the next time she asked when her dad would be home, someone would be able to tell her.

* * *

Thanos kept himself busy. After recovering from his battle wounds, he poured all his energy into scouring the galaxies, reforging old alliances, rebuilding his army. He was satisfied to discover that despite his future self’s sorry defeat, the name Thanos still held some weight in the universe.

Of course, there was also Tony Stark to occupy his time.

Tony Stark who, Thanos knew, had played a large role in assembling the defenses of a previously vulnerable planet — even personally blowing up most of his Chitauri army years back. Thanos had played with the thought of turning that kind of genius to his advantage, but after viewing his prisoner’s memories, specifically the weeks of captivity when Stark first created his armor, Thanos opted out on that plan. He had underestimated Stark before; he would not do it again.

Besides, even if he couldn’t use the man to design ships or weapons, Stark still had his uses. And so Thanos focused on dredging up Stark’s memories, secrets, traumas, weaknesses. Any leverage to use against those warriors who called themselves Avengers. Any hint of what they would have done with the Infinity Stones.

And when Thanos had regained his strength, he would go back after the Stones. He had not lost sight of his goal.

Eventually, however, Stark must have noticed the neural links’ intrusions. The screens of the ship’s control room, where Thanos viewed Stark’s memories, began to cloud over, or turn completely dark. He was fighting.

Thanos fought back.

He had not replicated Nebula’s holding cell for nothing. Every neural tool, every machine he’d designed in that chamber, he had now in this new ship. At first Thanos told himself every scream he elicited from Stark served a purpose; every ounce of pain bought him greater access to his mind. But something in Stark’s defiant eyes brought out another side of the Titan. Soon, he found himself visiting the cell with a knife in hand, simply for the pleasure of it.

However, after a few days, Thanos realized he would have to switch tactics. Physically torturing Stark had its advantages, but the threat of death loomed sooner than Thanos anticipated. The battle and the radiation had already weakened the man, and Thanos did not wish to give him an easy end.

So the Titan applied himself to the ship’s neural networks, and began to turn it to an additional purpose.

* * *

“Tony?”

Tony blinked awake, slowly. He was on a bed. The room spun. But the sheets were soft, so soft…

Tony felt like he was wading through his own thoughts. Something rang in his ears.  _ This isn’t right. _ White walls pulsed around him.

“Honey. You’re awake.”

Uncertainly, he turned towards the source of the voice. Pepper sat beside him.

Her hair fell in soft waves around tear-streaked cheeks. She wore one of his old band shirts. And suddenly, everything shifted into focus, when he looked in her eyes.

_ This is right. This has to be right. There is nothing more right than this. _ He knew this. He knew her.

“Oh god. You’re — you’re alright, Tony.” Pepper’s voice was thick with emotion. She leaned over him, kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, I took care of it. You’re gonna be alright.”

Tony closed his eyes. She even smelled the same way he remembered.

Something in the back of his mind hammered for attention.  _ This is fake. This is Thanos. This isn’t right. _

Tony shook his head, shook the thought away, tears escaping.  _ So what,  _ the tiny voice inside him spat.  _ So what if this is fake? _ He was tired, so tired.

Thanos had electrocuted him for hours yesterday. Or what he thought was yesterday — he hadn’t kept track in a long, long time. Tony screamed, until no sound came out, until the world went black.

Until he woke up with his wife by his bedside, and god, he wanted nothing more. He wanted nothing more than her arms around him, the way they were now. And what was so fucking wrong with this anyway, with escaping. This wasn’t a memory, right? Not something Thanos could use.

_ This isn’t right. _ So fucking what? Because it felt convincingly, achingly real.

“I miss you,” he sobbed into Pepper’s hair. His chest felt like bursting. “God, Pep, I miss you, so much."

“You’re gonna be okay.”

“How did I get here? How —”

Tony pulled away. Pepper was gone.

He was alone.

And suddenly the walls fell away. Tony was standing in a cemetery. Where he had been staring at the space Pepper previously occupied, Tony now found himself staring at a tombstone. The words burned themselves into his mind.

_ Virginia “Pepper” Potts-Stark _ _  
_ _ April 10, 1972 - December 16, 2023 _ _  
_ _ Loving mother. Sacrificing wife. _

Pepper was gone. Pepper was dead.

_ This isn’t right. Wrong wrong wrong wrong — _

Tony fell on his knees, leaning on the tombstone. Shaking.

“She said it would be alright? That she took care of it? Well, she did.”

Tony whipped around to find the source of the voice, stumbling over Pepper’s grave as he did so. The cemetery was empty; he was alone. But Tony would know that voice anywhere.

“You think you had an easy recovery? You think any of that was easy? Her extremis saved your life, at the cost of her own.” A disembodied Obadiah Stane chuckled. “She always did take such good care of you, Tony.”

Tony stumbled again, falling forward —  _ get out get out _ — he crawled when he couldn’t stand. He had to get out, he couldn’t look at that tombstone again. He couldn’t be here.

_ Not a memory, not a memory, Thanos, not real. _ A sob wrenched itself out of the pits of Tony’s chest when he looked up, only to come face-to-face again with Pepper’s tombstone. Back where he started. Stane’s taunting voice echoed through the air — “She died for you she died for you she died for you.”

This wasn’t a memory. This was a fucking nightmare.

_ Not real not real not real — _

And yet Tony felt himself crumpling from the core, as if the monster who captured him and the monster whose voice now taunted him were both reaching inside and tearing his guts. Because it felt convincingly, achingly real.

His body gave out. Any strength still left in him after the last torture session gave out. Tony collapsed where he was, sobbing into the dirt.

* * *

Thanos stepped into the room quietly. The sensors told him Stark was still unconscious. The man was still spread out and suspended, in the same state Thanos had left him after the electrocution session hours ago.

Except Tony Stark was crying. Guttural, hacking sobs that shook his whole body. Tears splattered freely on the floor.

Thanos had employed the neural links this way before. He had even used it on his daughter, once, when Nebula was younger and more prone to disobedience. But Thanos had never felt as satisfied with its results as he did now.

Thanos left his captive alone, satisfied he could now spend at least several hours probing Stark’s memories from the control room without his interference.

And when he woke up… well. Then Thanos could just start the process all over again.


	6. Chapter 6

Hologram Thor ended his report, head shaking sadly. “So, basically…”

“We’re back to square one,” Rhodey finished. He sighed deeply as he reached for some knobs on the ship’s communications panel. Nebula saw his hand shake. “Damn. I thought this was it, man. Our big break.”

“So did I.” Even through holographic projections, Nebula could see the bags under Thor’s eyes. She had never seen the Asgardian in such bad shape, including before the time heist. At least then, the god had had his teammates’ hopes to share, and his drinks to drown the emotions. Now, no one was under any inclination to drink or relax. And their hopes were routinely snatched away every couple of days.

Rhodey, however, looked even worse. Nebula knew the man, knew he tried to hide it, but every little bow of his head after a dead end, every uncharacteristic act of over-aggression when interrogating suspects, only made his desperation all the more obvious. The team’s spirits rose or fell with Colonel Rhodes. Right now, they were keenly feeling the weight of the past five weeks that had yielded next to nothing.

“Follow up on the Ravager lead. It’s all we got now,” Rhodes instructed. “Check back in twelve hours. Take care, guys.”

Thor nodded in acknowledgement, and Rhodes ended the call.

“Not all we got,” Danvers quietly offered from the captain’s seat after a pause. “Knowhere was a bust, but those frequencies we measured struck a chord with Nebula, right? Memory readers?”

“Nervous system-targeting technology.” Nebula nodded. Struck a chord, indeed. More like dug up old traumas. “The Thanos I knew was… fond of it. But it’s only one of the possibilities.”

“I’m familiar with some of its variants. The Skrulls used to be fond of it, too.”

Nebula cocked her head. She was sure whatever brainwave-reading applications the Skrulls had explored didn't measure up to Thanos’ own sadistic uses for the technology. But a lead was a lead. And right now, they were very short on those.

“Well then, we can arrange a visit,” Fury spoke up. “Since that battleship lead blew up, it’s not like we got anywhere better to be.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Rhodes murmured.

Nebula turned to him. “Get some sleep,” she directed, never one to mince words.

Danver’s Flerken, Goose, rubbed up against the metal frames on Rhodey’s legs, as if to echo the sentiment. Rhodes’ immediately agreed to the suggestion of rest: a glaring indicator of the stress of the last few hours.

Idly, Nebula wondered how the rest of the Guardians were taking it. If they were as tired as Rhodey and Thor seemed to be. Their whole team had split into separate groups on consensus: Thor and Danvers, as the hardest hitters, taking two different crews, and the rest of them splitting based on familiarity. Nebula wouldn’t have left Rhodey’s side even if the numbers had leaned towards it, but still, sometimes she missed her old companions. The quiet understanding she and Rocket had built over the past five years. The ever-present concern for Gamora that she shared with Quill.

Gamora. Their leads on that end had been, if possible, even fewer than those for Tony. But Gamora was in her element; she knew how to disappear. And Nebula was certain, at least, that her sister hadn’t left Earth in the hands of an abusive monster.

Danvers cleared her throat, breaking into Nebula’s thoughts. “Can we talk?”

She realized they were alone now, Fury and even Goose having left with Rhodey. “Of course.”

“I’ve started analyzing those frequency readings,” Danvers began. “Nebula… you never mentioned this around Rhodes, so I didn’t press, but if we’re pursuing this lead I have to ask. That neural technology — Thanos isn’t using it just to read memories, is he?”

A short pause, and then Nebula shook her head. “He can modify them. Cause hallucinations in a person’s mind. And… in my case…” she triggered a sensor on the metal side of her head, bringing up a holographic projection, “store them for future viewing.”

Slowly, Danvers nodded. “That’s the next thing I wanted to ask about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Morag.”

The planet’s name still gave Nebula pause every time. Morag, her memories. Morag, her overlooked weakness. Her capture. Thanos’ return.

Her mistake.

“What about it?”

Danvers paused hesitantly before asking, “Is there any way we can use that to our advantage?”

Nebula frowned.

“Hear me out.” Danvers raised both hands, palms outward. “You have something unique, an innate connection to Thanos’ systems, which he could control without your consent —"

“Not anymore,” Nebula said stiffly. She’d asked Princess Shuri to make sure of that before they left Wakanda.

“No, not anymore,” Danvers agreed. “That’s a big step. What if we could take a bigger one, turn the tables. Access Thanos’ networks without his consent instead.”

“To what end? To see how he’s torturing Tony?”

“To see Tony’s  _ memories _ ,” Danvers stressed. “Listen, just a mind reader, like the Skrulls had, that’s a closed system. But Thanos’ modifications are a security weakness. A weakness we can exploit. What if we can see what Tony Stark saw? What if we could do that?”

What if they could? Nebula knew this was a bigger hope than most they’d had over the past month. But, like all others, it also had a bigger roadblock. “It’s not that easy.” Nebula shook her head. “Shuri of Wakanda, she was brilliant. But closing off my own mind, that took her days, extensive technology, and the help of that Parker boy Tony cared for. What you’re suggesting is exceedingly harder.”

“I know a Skrull who can get it started,” Danvers insisted. “And we’ll ask Wakanda for any help they can offer. Even if it takes time, what do we have to lose?”

“We risk exposure. If we get into those networks prematurely, Thanos will see us.”

“Then we’ll wait until we have all the pieces.”

Nebula sighed. It was a half-baked plan, at best. But still, even she could admit it might be a worthwhile shot. “I do know someone who could accomplish this,” Nebula said softly. “Unfortunately, he’s the one we’re trying to rescue.”

Danvers smiled sadly.

Nebula considered for a minute. Finally, she looked back up at Danvers, nodding. “What will you need from me?”

* * *

Morgan stared up at the dark ceiling long after bedtime, long after Mommy had drifted to sleep beside her. She didn’t often sleep in her parents’ room, not even after the War, but tonight was special. Tonight was Christmas.

Morgan didn’t remember a whole lot, but she knew Christmas had always been special in their house. She had dug up some photo albums a few weeks ago, the ones Mommy loved to make. And Morgan had traced the Christmases she couldn’t remember.

There was Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy. Once, Uncle Also-Morgan and his husband. But always, her and Daddy and Mommy, and they were always smiling in the pictures.

Morgan couldn’t remember the time she crawled through all the torn gift wrappers with a Santa hat askew on her head, but here it was, preserved in Mommy’s photos. The time she got sticky popcorn all over her face. The time she hid her face in Daddy’s cardigan when the thrusters on Auntie Blue’s spaceship startled her.

Then there was that one time Morgan remembered from last year, when Daddy helped Mommy make the cupcakes and decorated one with an icing platypus on top. He held it in front of Uncle Rhodey’s face for the photo; Daddy was grinning, Uncle Rhodey wasn’t.

One picture Morgan really loved: she was wearing that red dress Auntie Nat gave her, and Daddy kissed her cheek under the mistletoe. Auntie Blue was in the background, and she wasn’t in a lot of pictures because she didn’t like to smile a lot, but she was smiling in this one.

Of course, there was also that photo that was also Mommy’s wallpaper on her tablet. Her and Daddy and Mommy, sitting by the fireplace, arms around each other, smiling.

Now that she couldn’t sleep, it was this picture that Morgan stared at, on Mommy’s tablet with the brightness lowered, under the blankets. Because she missed this kind of Christmas.

Today she had Mommy and Uncle Happy, and Peter and his aunt. Morgan already knew Peter, but she still shied away from his aunt, even though the woman had kind eyes. Peter’s aunt talked more with Mommy anyway. Peter brought cheeseburgers and smiled, but not with his eyes, Morgan could tell. Because that was also how Mommy and Uncle Happy smiled most of the time now.

Uncle Rhodey, Auntie Blue, and Auntie Carol called for a while, and Uncle Thor and a whole bunch of people Morgan barely knew also said hi from their spaceship. Small not-green Uncle Bruce called from Wakanda. But it wasn’t the same.

There was still no new news about Daddy. Morgan had thought, at first, maybe he’d be home by now. Or maybe at least, when she dared to ask about him, Uncle Rhodey wouldn’t make such sad eyes before replying.

Another person was missing, too. Morgan’s favorite redhead aunt (Auntie Carol was her favorite blonde aunt, Auntie Blue was her favorite blue aunt, and Morgan would stick her tongue out at Daddy whenever he tried to tease her into picking a favorite-of-all aunt) — the aunt who gave the best piggy-back rides and the worst scary stories, because she never made them too scary for her — Morgan knew they would never have that aunt over at Christmas again.

And Morgan missed it. She missed it all. Was this what Mommy meant years ago when she said Daddy sometimes felt lonely? Maybe this is what lonely meant. Maybe this was how Mommy felt too, a few days ago, when Morgan came from playing outside and caught her blasting Daddy’s loud thunder songs on full volume in the kitchen.

Daddy’s songs.

Softly, with the white night quiet all around her, her mother sleeping beside her, and her tummy aching with something besides too much cake, Morgan started to sing one of her and Daddy’s songs. 

Because that was how she and Daddy used to end their Christmas.

_ “Come out, moon _ _   
_ _ Come out, wishing star _ _   
_ _ Come out, come out _ _   
_ _ Wherever you are” _

That Christmas night, Morgan sang herself to sleep.

* * *

_ “Come out, come out _ _   
_ _ Wherever you are” _

Tony’s chest and arm and neck ached, the same dull pain that never left.

_ “I’m out here in the dark” _

Even his mind wasn’t his own anymore. His memories.

_ “All along and wide awake _ _   
_ _ Come and find me” _

His daughter.

Thanos knew it all, had put his brain and his emotions and his pain in one huge blender and drank it, bottoms up, while Tony watched.

_ “I’m empty and I’m cold _ _   
_ _ And my heart’s about to break” _

He hated it. He hated it, he hated it, he hated it. Not so much for his own suffering, but for the intimate secrets Thanos knew now. He knew it all.

_ “Come and find me” _

Maybe it had an advantage, though. One tiny pinprick of light. Because Tony wasn’t afraid to remember anymore.

Now that there was no use hiding, he could dream of his family again. Could sing one of the lullabies he used to sing for Morgan, on nights they were both too tired for a story.

_ “I'll hear you laugh _ _   
_ _ I'll see you smile _ _   
_ _ I'll be with you, just for a while” _

Nights like Christmas. Maybe it was Christmas now, somewhere else in the universe where good things still happened. Tony’s estimate put today’s date somewhere between November 18th and December 29th in Earth time, which wasn’t very helpful.

But somehow, he felt like singing today.

_ “But when the morning comes _ _   
_ _ And the sun begins to rise _ _   
_ _ I will lose you” _

By some wonder, his daughter had never objected to his often depressing lullaby choices. This was Winnie the Pooh, wholesome and all that, because Tony threw himself into the whole cartoons-and-musicals deal when he signed up for fatherhood. Still, he always seemed to choose the sad songs.

Back home, they’d made a tradition of marathoning Disney on Decimation anniversaries, because Tony had to find a way to force himself not to turn the channel over to the news. Not to go on another downward spiral.

But, god, was he still a mess. No wonder it was the sad kids’ songs that stuck.

_ “I've hung a wish on every star _ _   
_ _ It hasn't done much good so far” _

Tony had been lost in his own mind before. But this  — this was the only way he could deal with things now. With all of it. This was the only way he could keep himself sane.

He didn’t believe Thanos’ stories, of course. Didn’t believe they’d lost. Even if sometimes he had to repeat the mantra to himself out loud. He didn’t believe that shit.

He couldn’t.

He had to believe that somewhere, the team was still looking for him. Rhodey and Pepper were looking for him.

He had to.

_ “I don't know what else to do _ _   
_ _ Except to try to dream of you” _

He sang as loudly as he could, which wasn’t very loud now, and raspy from screaming. But he sang, and he didn’t care who heard, because sometimes in the darkness he could do this, try to carve out some space, some little corner in the world where Tony Stark still remembered who he held on for. Sometimes he sang loud enough for it to echo, and Tony imagined someone was singing it back.

_ “And wonder if you’re dreaming, too _ _   
_ _ Wherever you are” _

Somewhere in the distance, a door slid back.

Feet pounded. The telltale signs of a coming Titan. Of coming pain. And Tony gulped his hopes down, held it back somewhere maybe Thanos couldn’t touch. Braced himself, the way he’d learned to do over, and over, and over again.

“Merry Christmas, Morguna,” Tony whispered into the darkness, before that too was ripped away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this might be seeming slow lately but something important happens next chapter! It might be a little longer in coming, just some real life stuff going on, but I’m still invested in telling this story! As usual kudos and comments are so very much appreciated, I’d love to hear what you guys think. Thanks for sticking around :D


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